02/07/2024
Electrified by life
Exonerated by love
Absolved by faith
Made immaculate by hope
She stared into the abyss of her adventurous past,
Which was chock-full of wildly extravagant beasts -
Intoxicating moments
That once left her feeling as though she were floating…
Upon endless beds of orchids,
With fox-fur draped entirely around her,
In silken gowns that rested so delicately upon her svelte form
That gave her a false sense of being protected.
Enchanted,
Enthralled -
Bewitched by her own beauty…
Guided by her own guiles,
She enraptured them all.
Entangling herself in an impossible mess
Of bleeding, broken hearts.
Bits of their insides
Strewn through her garden
Like red poppies,
Blooming at night
In a strange, and eerie glory -
Reminding her of her own self-destruction,
And the decimation of so many innocent young men.
Inevitably finding her way
Into a punishing chaos
Where men were her monsters,
Or was it the other way around?
She wasn’t entirely certain anymore.
The past seemed to have a way of shapeshifting,
And recreating itself.
Electrified by life…
Like Frankenstein’s Bride
Electrocuted perhaps,
An amalgamation of body parts
From long-lost lovers,
From carcasses of the walking dead,
Which she gathered in her own zombified trance –
Prancing upon her path
Like some siren of the sea…
Fox in hand
Foxy as can be
Silent in voice
Wailing in spirit
Dying inside
Already dead.
When might she expect to come alive again?
Disassociated.
She was electrified by life…
So much beauty to behold
And yet every bit of it that she managed to grasp,
Slipped right through her hands.
The pink mimosa flower in the Summer
Stood out like paradise on that Brooklyn block
Where she grew up.
The birds of paradise,
Mixed in the bouquet that she once got as a gift…
Delivered to her door on Valentine’s Day.
The inexplicably mythical orchids,
Which she had never known about in her earlier years,
But that were clearly Yoni-like
In their structure.
The reeds that echoed their own longing -
The layers upon layers of flowers
That surrounded her,
As though she were attending her own funeral.
She stared into the abyss,
Her back against some floating, fragrant, unidentified blossoms –
Pale and non-distinct
Like her, in her awkward stage of aging.
She gazed out into the abyss,
Which was filled with the nightmares of her past,
But also, of her own majestic grace…
Of the strength in her own survival.
Her triumphant stance,
Draped in silk,
Striations and shades…
That of the colors of baby’s bare skins -
Innocent within,
Full moon aglow
In a night sky
Streaked with rainbow strands
Of mysterious origin.
Words formed across the pitch-black sky…
She was electrified by life.
She gazed out and away,
While breathing into this moment alone.
Finding her way home.
Knowing that no matter how far gone she might perceive herself to be
That she was indeed,
Home!
Vibrant against the backdrop of her every adventure –
Good & Bad
Wicked and Wondrous…
Fox stood strong at her side,
Looking in the opposite direction,
Making absolute sure
That nobody,
And nothing…
Was coming for her
Except her own delightfully surprising,
Supreme Destiny
Of Rapture.
She was electrified by life
And lulled by its slow buzz
As though honey bees were conjuring up their sweetness
Just for her.
As though stillness had finally settled deep in her soul,
And contentment had finally found its way…
To the surface and depths
Of her still-beating heart. ©
- Francesca Simonelli
2/7/24
Artwork Credit:
Moonlight Meander With A Fox
Mixed Media Textile Painting
By Veronika Olivier
https://www.facebook.com/VeronikaOlivierArtist
